


Red Letter A On Glass Hearts

by borntomkehistory



Series: Angst, Angst, and more angst [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, cheating is involved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2018-11-19 13:43:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11314605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borntomkehistory/pseuds/borntomkehistory
Summary: Did a stupid fight prompt him to cheat? Never in his life did Viktor think that infidelity was okay. He felt disgusting, dirty; he wanted to claw his skin away so that maybe it would feel like he didn't sleep with someone else.





	1. preview

**Author's Note:**

> Just a few things:  
> 1) This is only a preview of the fic. The reason I'm posting this is because I am curious to see how my idea will be perceived.  
> 2) The fic will be completed, like before, I'm curious to see how it will be perceived. I also need a bit more inspiration.  
> 3) I was inspired by movie "Fences" to write this.  
> 4) Viktor in this is Bisexual.  
> 5) This might be sad for a few. 
> 
> That is all, I hope you enjoy this snippet!

 

The atmosphere in the house was tense.

  
"Viktor, you always do this. You have a drinking problem!" Yuuri snapped, flailing his hands around because this was the third time this week his husband has came back drunk.  
  
"I do not. All you do is nag, nag, nag." Viktor used his hand to make a talking gesture. He followed Yuuri to the bedroom where they would continue their fight.  
  
_"My god!"_ Yuuri shouted in Japanese, he was getting frustrated with this topic of discussion. It was getting them nowhere.  
  
Yuuri stepped into the bathroom in their room, slamming the door in Viktor's face. He couldn't do this, not now. There was no way Viktor was going to change, he was too stubborn, and he lacked cooperation skills. Yuuri just needed time to cool off.  
  
_"I'm leaving."_ Viktor slurred in his own mother language. Grabbing the house keys on his way out of their apartment. He needed to cool off too. All this roundabout arguing was becoming tedious. Especially since Viktor knew that he didn't have a problem. He was Russian. He was made to handle his liquor.  
  
He hailed a cab and told the driver to take him back from the nightclub he just came from. The driver looked at him up and down, eyeing his drunken state but said nothing. It wasn't his place to say anything; he just had to take his passengers to their destinations.  
  
The cab drove off, leaving Yuuri to watch from the window.  
  
Yuuri just pulled the blinds shut.

  
  
"Hey, you look like you need a little pick me up." A pair of pale slender arms found themselves wrapped around Viktor's neck.  
  
The nightclub was filled with tons of people who were dancing along to the music that was blaring loudly. Many were already too many drinks in, stumbling around and some even finding themselves throwing up stomach bile in the nearest corner. That didn't stop the party though, which was just getting started.  
  
Viktor was sitting by the bar when the mystery women came. He was already on his second drink, which would bring his total drink count up to seven with the ones he had prior. He was pretty wasted at this point. His ears clogged, vision wobbly, with lost of proper motor skills and self-control. Usually when he got like this, Yuuri would be there to stop him from making a fool of himself. But, this time around he wasn't there. Which just left Viktor to try and make his own decisions while his mind and pants furiously battled for dominance.  
  
"Hm...?" He mumbled, not aware of when exactly he got up and left the club. The mystery women did all the work; Viktor was only there for the ride.  
  
"I hope you still have enough in you to work with me, baby."  
  
Viktor felt a pair of hands grip his hips, his hands trailing up a foreign body. It felt unfamiliar, wrong even, but he couldn't control himself. He hadn't had sex for days now; his pants were definitely doing the talking. This felt so wrong that it felt right.  
  
"Yuuri..." Viktor moaned.  
  
The last thing he remembered was sloppy kisses and then blacking out from the alcohol clouding his brain.

 

  
When Viktor woke up, he knew that something was wrong, instantly. For starters, this wasn't his bed. He seemed to be in some strange hotel with his shirt and pants off.  
  
He rubbed his head. The alcohol wasn't fully out of his system, but he had regained his correct state of mind. By the looks of things, he might have just dug himself into a hole he would never be able to dig himself out of.  
  
"Oh my god..." he pulled the covers off the body next to him. It was a woman, not his husband. She was fully naked, with messy hair and marks all over her body. Viktor looked down at his own chest and saw that there were marks on him as well. He looked at the body mirror across from the bed, put his fingers up to his neck, and winced once feeling the tender spots that were already starting to bruise.  
  
What has he done? Viktor quickly gathered his clothes and whatever belongings he came with. He had never gotten dress so fast; he didn't even bother to leave a note or anything. If he had a one-night stand that doesn't mean that he had to show any type of remorse or feelings. It was just meaningless sex. Though it was only okay when one didn't have a spouse waiting at home, possibly worried sick.  
  
Viktor felt queasy, he felt like he was going to throw up just when he closed the door to the hotel room and ran down the steel stairs. Luckily, there was already a cab waiting outside. He grabbed it, told the driver where he was going, and sat back in the seat. Feeling the silence and regret wash over him.  
  
Did a stupid fight prompt him to cheat? Never in his life did Viktor think that infidelity was okay. He felt disgusting, dirty; he wanted to claw his skin away so that maybe it would feel like he didn't sleep with someone else.  
  
The breaks on the cab squeaked, loudly. When Viktor handed the money he owed over, he peaked at the time that read 03:47am. He had been out for hours, remembering that he left around 23:15pm. Yuuri was probably worried sick. This made his stomach clench even more. Viktor thanked the driver, closed the door, and ran up the stairs to his apartment.  
  
From the window, the apartment was dark. Yuuri was surely asleep by now. Perfect, maybe Viktor would be able to sneak and take a shower before slipping into bed. Though it wouldn't feel right. There had to be a rule for cheating on your husband and then climbing into bed like nothing's ever happened.  
  
Struggling with his keys, When Viktor finally opened the door; he tossed them into the glass bowl near by. He also kicked his shoes off and opted to keep his jacket on just in case Yuuri was still awake.  
  
The apartment was silent except for the sounds of Viktor's bare feet sticking onto the wooden floor. When he walked into the living room, he saw Yuuri sleeping awkwardly on the couch. Face tear stained and red. He must have cried himself to sleep. Viktor's stomach dropped.  
  
He carefully tried to adjust Yuuri's body (without waking him) so that he laid comfortably on the couch, then he draped a blanket over him. Finally, he placed a kiss on his forehead and took his glasses off so that they wouldn't get messed up. How dare Viktor try and be a good husband after the dirty selfish deed that took place only a few hours ago.  
  
_"Fuck me."_ Viktor muttered in Russian. He went to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Upon taking his jacket off, he saw the marks on his body as clear as day. All red and blotchy, even a bit purple. The mystery women sure was possessive, making sure that everyone knows who her piece of action belonged too.  
  
Viktor sat on the edge of the tub, putting his hand underneath the running water to check the temperature. Even when the water became scathing hot he didn't pull his hand away, saying that he deserved the pain.  
  
He didn't know what he was going to do. He just knew that he had to tell Yuuri soon, or the guilt will eat him from the inside out.  


...


	2. It's over, isn't it?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Viktor...?" He swayed back and forth in the doorframe; Viktor must have woken up as well.
> 
> They both stared at one another at opposite sides of the room. One waiting for the other to say something.
> 
> "I'm sorry." Yuuri gave in, stepping into the room and taking a seat next to Viktor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone that bookmarked, or who left reviews. This chapter took forever to finish (I tend to jump around from idea to idea and never finish what I write. The first part to this fic was only a preview, this being the actual chapter. I apologize for it not being super long. Lemme stop blabbering. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Also! I'm considering chapter 2 the "offical" chapter. So chapter 1 was the preview and this one is the full chapter. I just wanted to put that out there just in case anyone was confused. Thank you!)

 

 The atmosphere in the house was tense.

  
"Viktor, you always do this. You have a drinking problem!" Yuuri snapped, flailing his hands around because this was the third time this week his husband has came back drunk.  
  
"I do not. All you do is nag, nag, nag." Viktor used his hand to make a talking gesture. He followed Yuuri to the bedroom where they would continue their fight.  
  
_"My god!"_  Yuuri shouted in Japanese, he was getting frustrated with this topic of discussion. It was getting them nowhere.  
  
Yuuri stepped into the bathroom in their room, slamming the door in Viktor's face. He couldn't do this, not now. There was no way Viktor was going to change, he was too stubborn, and he lacked cooperation skills. Yuuri just needed time to cool off.  
  
_"I'm leaving."_  Viktor slurred in his own mother language. Grabbing the house keys on his way out of their apartment. He needed to cool off too. All this roundabout arguing was becoming tedious. Especially since Viktor knew that he didn't have a problem. He was Russian. He was made to handle his liquor.  
  
He hailed a cab and told the driver to take him back from the nightclub he just came from. The driver looked at him up and down, eyeing his drunken state but said nothing. It wasn't his place to say anything; he just had to take his passengers to their destinations.  
  
The cab drove off, leaving Yuuri to watch from the window.  
  
Yuuri just pulled the blinds shut.

  
  
"Hey, you look like you need a little pick me up." A pair of pale slender arms found themselves wrapped around Viktor's neck.  
  
The nightclub was filled with tons of people who were dancing along to the music that was blaring loudly. Many were already too many drinks in, stumbling around and some even finding themselves throwing up stomach bile in the nearest corner. That didn't stop the party though, which was just getting started.  
  
Viktor was sitting by the bar when the mystery women came. He was already on his second drink, which would bring his total drink count up to seven with the ones he had prior. He was pretty wasted at this point. His ears clogged, vision wobbly, with lost of proper motor skills and self-control. Usually when he got like this, Yuuri would be there to stop him from making a fool of himself. But, this time around he wasn't there. Which just left Viktor to try and make his own decisions while his mind and pants furiously battled for dominance.  
  
"Hm...?" He mumbled, not aware of when exactly he got up and left the club. The mystery women did all the work; Viktor was only there for the ride.  
  
"I hope you still have enough in you to work with me, baby."  
  
Viktor felt a pair of hands grip his hips, his hands trailing up a foreign body. It felt unfamiliar, wrong even, but he couldn't control himself. He hadn't had sex for days now; his pants were definitely doing the talking. This felt so wrong that it felt right.  
  
"Yuuri..." Viktor moaned.  
  
The last thing he remembered was sloppy kisses and then blacking out from the alcohol clouding his brain.

 

  
When Viktor woke up, he knew that something was wrong, instantly. For starters, this wasn't his bed. He seemed to be in some strange hotel with his shirt and pants off.  
  
He rubbed his head. The alcohol wasn't fully out of his system, but he had regained his correct state of mind. By the looks of things, he might have just dug himself into a hole he would never be able to dig himself out of.  
  
"Oh my god..." he pulled the covers off the body next to him. It was a woman, not his husband. She was fully naked, with messy hair and marks all over her body. Viktor looked down at his own chest and saw that there were marks on him as well. He looked at the body mirror across from the bed, put his fingers up to his neck, and winced once feeling the tender spots that were already starting to bruise.  
  
What has he done? Viktor quickly gathered his clothes and whatever belongings he came with. He had never gotten dress so fast; he didn't even bother to leave a note or anything. If he had a one-night stand that doesn't mean that he had to show any type of remorse or feelings. It was just meaningless sex. Though it was only okay when one didn't have a spouse waiting at home, possibly worried sick.  
  
Viktor felt queasy, he felt like he was going to throw up just when he closed the door to the hotel room and ran down the steel stairs. Luckily, there was already a cab waiting outside. He grabbed it, told the driver where he was going, and sat back in the seat. Feeling the silence and regret wash over him.  
  
Did a stupid fight prompt him to cheat? Never in his life did Viktor think that infidelity was okay. He felt disgusting, dirty; he wanted to claw his skin away so that maybe it would feel like he didn't sleep with someone else.  
  
The breaks on the cab squeaked, loudly. When Viktor handed the money he owed over, he peaked at the time that read 03:47am. He had been out for hours, remembering that he left around 23:15pm. Yuuri was probably worried sick. This made his stomach clench even more. Viktor thanked the driver, closed the door, and ran up the stairs to his apartment.  
  
From the window, the apartment was dark. Yuuri was surely asleep by now. Perfect, maybe Viktor would be able to sneak and take a shower before slipping into bed. Though it wouldn't feel right. There had to be a rule for cheating on your husband and then climbing into bed like nothing's ever happened.  
  
Struggling with his keys, When Viktor finally opened the door; he tossed them into the glass bowl near by. He also kicked his shoes off and opted to keep his jacket on just in case Yuuri was still awake.  
  
The apartment was silent except for the sounds of Viktor's bare feet sticking onto the wooden floor. When he walked into the living room, he saw Yuuri sleeping awkwardly on the couch. Face tear stained and red. He must have cried himself to sleep. Viktor's stomach dropped.  
  
He carefully tried to adjust Yuuri's body (without waking him) so that he laid comfortably on the couch, then he draped a blanket over him. Finally, he placed a kiss on his forehead and took his glasses off so that they wouldn't get messed up. How dare Viktor try and be a good husband after the dirty selfish deed that took place only a few hours ago.  
  
_"Fuck me."_  Viktor muttered in Russian. He went to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Upon taking his jacket off, he saw the marks on his body as clear as day. All red and blotchy, even a bit purple. The mystery women sure was possessive, making sure that everyone knows who her piece of action belonged too.  
  
Viktor sat on the edge of the tub, putting his hand underneath the running water to check the temperature. Even when the water became scathing hot he didn't pull his hand away, saying that he deserved the pain.  
  
He didn't know what he was going to do. He just knew that he had to tell Yuuri soon, or the guilt will eat him from the inside out.

 

...

 

Weeks has pass since their fight. They both made up, agreeing that they should talk about what's bothering them instead of blowing up on one another.  
  
_Yuuri rubbed his eyes; sitting up on his elbows he felt a blanket that he didn't remember covering himself with slide down his chest. His glasses were gone too. Turning around, he retrieved his glasses and kindly returned them to his face._  
  
_"Viktor...?" He swayed back and forth in the doorframe; Viktor must have woken up as well._  
  
_They both stared at one another at opposite sides of the room. One waiting for the other to say something._  
  
_"I'm sorry." Yuuri gave in, stepping into the room and taking a seat next to Viktor._  
  
_"No, Yuuri. I should be the one apologizing." He smiled weakly, even though in the back of his mind, what he did last night was poking him like a needle._  
  
_The two of them hugged. Neither saying anything, just enjoying the embrace. With each breath that Yuuri took, his body would wobble like he was about to cry again. He wasn't, he was just trying to calm down. Viktor felt this, and squeezed him tighter to let him know that he wasn't going anywhere._  
  
_"Let's communicate more, okay?"_  
  
_"Okay."_  
  
Viktor was leaning on the edge of the skating rink, watching Yuuri practice and even critiquing if necessary. Occasionally he would shout a good job, Yuuri. Making his husband blush.  
  
"What time are our reservations?" Yuuri was in the midst of putting his blade guards on. Viktor was holding out a bottle of water.  
  
"18:30. Though we can be at most, five minutes late before they give our table away."  
  
Yuuri understood. He took the bottle, gratefully, gave Viktor a peck on the cheek (Yuuri had become much more comfortable with his public display of affection), then told Viktor that he was going to change before walking off to the locker room.  
  
Viktor watched his Yuuri leave in absolute awe. He was heads over heels in love, that's for sure. Sometimes that man made him feel like a giddy teenager.  
  
_Buzz. Buzz._  
  
Someone was texting him. Viktor took his phone from his pocket, and the texts he received were enough to made the color drain from his face.  
  
_Unknown: remember me? Well, we hooked up a few weeks ago_  
  
_Unknown: you gave me your number, though I doubt you would remember that. We were absolutely plastered._  
  
_Unknown: well, anyways... this may be kind of awkward, but I'm pregnant._  
  
_Unknown: I'm 100% sure that the baby is yours..._  
  
The phone fell to the ground with a loud chatter. Viktor felt his stomach flip, and he ran to the bathroom before his lunch came up.  
  
He was on his hands and knees dry heaving into the toilet. When it felt like he had nothing left to throw up, he fell back to lean on the stall door. Sweat was accumulating on his forehead, his hair was already sticking. With each breath, he felt his chest tighten and rattle.  
  
This couldn't be happening. What was he going to do? He was gong to be a father. To many this would be joyous news, but not when the child was out of adultery.  
  
Viktor hadn't realized how long he was in the bathroom until Yuuri came looking for him.  
  
"Viktor, are you in here?" He knocked on the door. No, Viktor couldn't stomach to see his face. The face of someone who looked at him like he was the center of the universe.  
  
"Y-Yes, Yuuri." His voice unsteady and hoarse.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
"Yes." That was a lie; "I'll be out in a second."  
  
"Are you sure? You sound funny."  
  
"Yes, just, please..." Viktor pleaded, body shaking all over. He saw Yuuri's shadow step closer, then step further away, all before the bathroom door closed. Then, he was gone.  
  
Viktor released a puff of air, relieved to say the most. Though that wasn't going to help him with the sticky situation that he was in.  
  
He had to confess, there was no hiding now.

  
...

  
The restaurant they were at was absolutely gorgeous. Beautiful scenery, right in the heart of St. Petersburg, wonderful decor, and live band players to bring it all together. Enwrapping everyone within a soothing ballad as the couples at their individual tables talked.  
  
Yuuri and Viktor were seated almost immediately. By the window away from everyone but still close enough to be included.  
  
"Viktor, this is beautiful... oh, thank you." Yuuri thanked the waiter who had provided them with a rather expensive bottle of champagne. Yuuri then went to Viktor who only looked at his full glass.  
  
"Viktor?"  
  
The silver haired Russian peeped up, meeting eyes full of concern.  
  
"Are you sure you're alright?"  
  
"Yes, _my god_." He snapped. Sighing, Viktor instantly felt bad. Truthfully, he wasn't alright, and he wasn't sure if he will ever be alright. However, Yuuri didn't deserve this. He couldn't even bring himself to look up and see the hurt and confusion plastered all over his face.  
  
"I'm sorry..."  
  
Yuuri nodded, though taken aback by the outburst, there was no reason to dwell. He reached across the table to take Viktor's hand in his own, their intertwined fingers now resting in the middle.  
  
"It's okay. I understand how stressed you... we've been lately. But we promised to communicate better, remember?" Yuuri smiled, the smile that still sends a rush of butterflies to flutter up Viktor's chest.  
  
"I remember."  
  
"Good. Now, let's have a nice dinner, okay?"  
  
"Okay."

  
And so they went back to their dinner. Yuuri was telling Viktor a funny thing that Yurio did the other day, showing him a video on his phone. They both laughed, Viktor taking hold of his glass out of habit, forgetting the promise that he made to himself. He wouldn't drink. Not tonight. But right now he felt that drinking would be the only thing to calm his nerves.  
  
Look at him; Yuuri's eyes would always crinkle when he laughs. His entire face glowing with happiness, lips curving up straight up. He would always vibrate, making the table or couch shake. That's what Viktor loved. Watching the love of his life smile and feel happy.  
  
But then, Viktor remembered. He remembered how he did something unforgettable. Yuuri didn't deserve that. He didn't.  
  
Viktor played with the napkin in front of him, thumb rubbing over the gold ring that was given to him over a year ago. He felt tight, hot. Stinging from his infidelity.  
  
"Viktor," suddenly a hand was on top of his own. Viktor's eyes trailed until he came in contact with soft chocolate brown eyes.  
  
"Please tell me what's wrong." Yuuri's expression was soft, his head slightly tilted to the side. Mouth in the middle of a thin line and a soft smile.  
  
He couldn't do it. Not here. Not now. But he had to. He could no longer keep it a secret... his throat felt dry, a tingling feeling of guilt bubbling in his chest and stomach.    
  
"Viktor-"  
  
"Yuuri, I have to tell you something." Viktor's voice laced wit urgency.  
  
Yuuri was alarmed, his face filling with a familiar panic. Did he do something? Was Viktor going to bring up the fight they had? Was Viktor going to leave him? Yuuri's mind was racing, but he had to keep himself together.  
  
"What is it?" Yuuri asked, slowly. He keyed in on Viktor's voice. It only felt like it was the two of them, the chatter in the background reduced to muffled voices against his ears.  
  
"I- I'm going to be a father, Yuuri..." his voice quivering. Viktor cursed at himself when he felt hot tears prickled in his eyes. How dare he cry.  
  
Silence. Yuuri hadn't quite registered the sentence.  
  
"E-Excuse me?" His breathing was becoming unsteady.  
  
"Remember the night we fought? I... I went to a club to get more drinks. I- A woman came up to me. I didn't know what I was doing. Next thing I remember was that I was in a hotel room, and then-"  
  
"And then you slept with her." Yuuri finished, voice low, it felt like icy shards on a blistering cold winter night. He pulled his hand back. Resting it in his lap.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Another silence.  
  
"It didn't mean anything. I swear. I love you. I love you so much. But then I got a message and it was her. She says that she's pregnant, A-And..."  
  
Screech, the chair left the table. Yuuri was now standing. His head hanging low. Viktor couldn't see his face, but saw drops of waterfall into the cloth on the table.  
  
"Yuuri, please say something."  
  
Something small and round made a low chatter on the table. It was gold.  
  
"Yuuri... please."  
  
"I want a divorce, Viktor." Finally looking up, his eyes were red, cheeks tear stained and blotchy. Even with the obvious pain on his face, he still managed to smile. Like how he did the first time he won silver when Viktor decided to coach him. Only, these weren't tears of joy, but tears of anger, sadness, hurt.  
  
Viktor covered his mouth with his hand, muffling his own pathetic whimpers. It was over.  
  
He watched as Yuuri exited the restaurant. Leaving him with only a painful reminder of the gold ring that started it all.  
  
_It was actually over._  
  
  
  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading if you made it to the end. Did the twist surprise you? please let me know what you think, reviews are always appreciated! :)


	3. True Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Yuri, you don't understand how hard marriage is..." Viktor's voice was weak, his once lively ocean blue eyes looking straight at Yuri's cold green ones. He knew that trying to gain empathy from the hot headed Russian was futile. 
> 
> "Maybe I don't. But I do understand how much Katsudon loves you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait. I recently started college and It's hard to get inspiration sometimes with all the work. However, I've been reading your comments (I'm sorry if i didn't answer a few i will i promise) and you guys helped me write this new chapter. 
> 
> Just a couple of things: 
> 
> I have an outline for this fic. But, I found that this chapter didn't follow the outline because of last minute changes. I realized that I wanted to focus on Yuri's reaction to the news because he's a big part of Viktor and Yuuri's life. 
> 
> I also wanted to put emphasis on the fact that even though Yuri is much older and much more mature that he's still a teen who has his own ways with coping with things. 
> 
> This will probably be one of my favorite chapters only because I enjoyed exploring Yuri's emotions. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

 

...

_"Yuuri, what a lovely surprise!"_  

_"Hey, mom."_  

_Yuuri flinched at the sound of his voice. It didn't sound like his own. Instead, it sounded foreign, unused. He hasn't uttered a word since that night... the night where he decided to end it._  

_His suitcase fell over, the handle hitting the floor with a loud thud._  

_He fought back the tears as his mother pulled him into a bone crashing hug. It felt good to feel physical contact from another human that wasn't just a stranger on his long flight, spilling into his already cramped seat. It especially felt good coming from a loved one. One that would never hurt him._  

_"Oh, Yuuri. Have you been eating? You're skin and bones. And where's Viktor? I haven't seen him in forever." He couldn't blame his mother for her ignorance. Yuuri hadn't told anyone, not even his own loving family. He couldn't tell them. They would be devastated._  

_Katsuki Yuuri. The one who took Viktor Nikiforov from the skating world. The one who made him put his career on hold. The lucky one. Cheated on._  

_"Yuuri, honey. Are you alright?"_  

_Yuuri's vision had become fogged with tears. He blinked them away, looking down at his mother who was now watching him with that sweet smile on her face. The smile that could add sugar to tea._  

_"Yeah," Yuuri nodded. A lie. Right now, he couldn't handle being the bearer of bad news._  

_"I'm alright."_  

...

 

"Yuri! Where the hell is Viktor and Yuuri?" Yakov's voice boomed through the rink. The older man stomped up to where Yuri was, teeth gritted, face as red as cherry tomatoes.  

"Don't have an aneurysm, old man." Yuri waved him off, face bored. He finished tightening his skates, fetching his phone from his bag.  

"And didn't you hear? Viktor and Katsudon are no longer together."  

He shoved his phone in Yakov's face. An article was open, one that was sent to him by the other skaters– the ones he got closer to over the years.  

_Russia's retired star skater, Viktor Nikiforov and Japan's three-year gold medalist Katsuki Yuuri, heading for divorce?_  

"I see." Yakov read the article over a couple of times. He felt no different towards the two skaters, only a bit sadden that their relationship didn't work out. From experience, Yakov knew how soul crushing a divorce could be.  

He turned to Yuri. Noticing how his posture was a little slouched over, his eyes dull and a bit lifeless. And how his insults didn't hold the same jab as they usually did. He didn't appear to be taking it well.  

"How do you feel, Yuri?" A firm hand was now sitting on the younger man's shoulders. Yakov's face softened, not holding the usual abrasiveness facade that he held.  

Yuri slapped the coaches hand away, much to his surprise.  

"It's not me I'm worried about." The stray hairs fell in front of Yuri's eyes. His hair has grown much longer over the years, teammates and reporters alike comparing him to how Viktor was when he was around his age.  

He just looked off towards the ice, watching how it glistened with the transparent lines from blades that slid across it.  

"I'm not the idiot who did this."  

...

 

Yuri found himself walking rather than taking the bus like he usually would. Yakov allowed him to leave early, a rarity only granted during certain circumstances. Yuri knew what the old man was doing. He was pitying him because Katsudon's dumb relationship didn't work. Yuri couldn't say he was surprised that it failed. It was too good to be true.  

His feet stopped walking, they were now planted on the ground. Over to his left, Yuri noticed that he was by the beach. Which meant that he was near their apartment. Damn. He was so engulfed in his own thoughts that he hadn't realized where he was walking to.  

Yuri turned his head, about to walk away when a sudden urge washed over him. An urge to walk up to their apartment. Yuuri was long gone, probably back in Japan in with his family; and no one had heard from Viktor in a couple of days which meant he was most likely moping like the dramatic prick he was.  

Maybe he should check on the old man to make sure he's still alive. Then, a twinge of anger rushed through his chest.   

He tightened his fist. How could they both be so stupid? How could they do this to everyone? Everyone was rooting for them to last. They were perfect for one another so why did it have to end like this? Also, why the hell couldn't Yuri get a proper explanation? They at least owed him that after all the shit he's been through.  

Yuri stalked up to the door, banging on it with his trembling fist. He heard barking emerge from the house, through the window he could see Makkachin jumping up and down. Damn mutt, what the hell was he so cheery about?  

The lights were off in the house. With the blinds closed except for the one by the door. Yuri knew that someone was home because the car was still in the driveway. He knocked again, this time with all his strength.  

"Open the fucking door!" Yuri yelled. He didn't care about making a scene, or that the neighbors were peeking through their own windows. This was between him and Viktor, not anyone else. Fuck everyone else.  

"I know you're in there you selfish fuck! Open the door or I'll kick it down just like how I kicked Katsudon through the door in Japan!" That did it. He heard the handle click, and the door slowly creak open.  

He pushed it open. Barging into the house without being properly invited. He knew the layout of the house as well as he knew his own. The living room was straight ahead along with the kitchen. The bedrooms and bathrooms were upstairs. It was a rather nice house, with the most gorgeous view of the beach. A perfect house made for the perfect couple.  

A horrible stench invaded his nostrils. It smelled of alcohol and something rotten. Up ahead where the kitchen was, Yuri was beyond horrified to see all the dishes in the sink covered in food stains and the old takeout scattered on the tables. His foot accidentally kicked a bottle, it rolled over to the couch.  

Yuri picked up the glass bottle, turning it to read the label. _Absolut vodka_ , it read.  

"You're pathetic." He dropped the bottle on the cushions.  

"Yurio, what are you-"  

"Don't fucking call me that." Yuri made a grab for Viktor's shirt. He's grown taller, almost as tall as Viktor. No longer did the old man have a height advantage over him.  

Yuri gritted his teeth, looking Viktor up and down. He looked a mess. His hair was disheveled, his clothes stained and dirty, he probably hasn't showered in a couple of days. It looked as if he hasn't slept much either judging by his bloodshot eyes. Though, that could he due to him just being drunk. Yuri was disgusted. He released Viktor's shirt.  

Viktor stumbled backwards, hitting the wall. An old picture of him and Yuri that was hanging up fell. It hit the ground with a loud crash, the glass shards scattering all over floor. The picture that was of them laughing. Viktor remembered that day. It was when they went to the street fair, Yuri was the one who took the picture.  

"You selfish bastard. Is this what you do? Do you want people to feel bad for you by hiding out and drinking yourself into an early grave? You self-centered fuck."  

Viktor hung his head low. Yuri was right and he deserved every insult that he could throw. His head felt foggy, and his eyes were heavy. He rubbed his temple to try and ease the throbbing headache.  

"I always knew that Yuuri was too good for you."  

That felt like a dagger getting shoved straight in Viktor's chest. A lump was beginning to form in his throat.  

"Yuri, you don't understand how hard marriage is..." Viktor's voice was weak, his once lively ocean blue eyes looking straight at Yuri's cold green ones. He knew that trying to gain empathy from the hot headed Russian was futile.  

"Maybe I don't. But I do understand how much Katsudon loves you."  

All the pent-up anger that Yuri was holding inside of him was extinguishing. For the life of him he wanted to punch Viktor in the face, he wanted to physically harm him. However, he couldn't. Not because he was afraid too, it's because whenever he stared into Viktor's stupid eyes he would think of Yuuri's equally as stupid smile.  

He lowered himself onto the couch, taking the empty bottle of Vodka into his hands. Desperately wishing that there was at least a drop left for him to savor.   

Viktor sighed, leaning his head against the wall, his arms propped up on his knees. They both didn't say anything, only sitting in the tense silence.  

"I fucked up. I fucked up bad."  

"You did."  

The older man closed his eyes. All he wanted was to hear Yuuri's voice, feel his presence. He knows that his apologizes wouldn't mean anything at this point. The damage was already done.

"How much of a fuck up are you?"  

"We fought, I got drunk, the rest is hazy...  I slept with a woman... N-Now she's carrying my baby." Viktor threw his hands over his mouth. He felt himself getting choked up. He couldn't cry in front of Yuri.  

Yuri didn't say anything. He only stood up, heading towards the door.  

"Yuri, wait."  

Viktor took hold of his leg. It was pathetic, yes. To be looking up at someone with such desperation. His searched Yuri's face for anything, something. He knew that he would never get Yuri's forgiveness. But he needed someone. Someone who knew him and knew that he was not a perfect man by all means.  

"Do you think that there's a chance?"  

Yuri kicked his hand off, turning to leave the apartment.  

"No."   

...

 

"How bad is he?"  

Yuri was laying on his stomach. He was on video chat with Otabek. They've been falling for a little more than an hour, Yuri filling him in on what happened and grateful to have someone to listen. Otabek was mostly quiet, only nodding his head occasionally to show that he was still listening.  

"I don't give a shit about how bad he is. He deserves whatever he's getting." Yuri snapped back, turning his attention to his cellphone. It was still buzzing from all the notifications he was receiving. Most of them being his twitter notifications that fans were tagging him in.  

"Don't you think you're being harsh?"  

"Fuck no. He's the one who _cheated_. He broke a sacred bond."  

Otabek didn't look too convinced. Knowing that there was a deeper root to this issue. He knew not to push too much. Anger was his way of coping with his problems. He was the same way when his grandfather passed.  

"You're right, Yura. He broke a sacred bond."  

Yuri didn't respond. He only took the time to scroll through his twitter notifications for the first time in a couple of weeks. He's been avoiding it because it wasn't his place to be the spokesperson to why someone's relationship didn't work, and his feed was covered in journalist and fans trying to get answers out of him and the broken-up couple. Yuri groaned, exiting his twitter to check his Instagram that wasn't any better.  

"If you want me to fly to Russia I can do-"  

Yuri sat up, "no!" He cried. He couldn't ask him to do that, he didn't need him to. If he did that would only make things worse, and he wanted to figure things out on his own. He's not a little kid that Otabek must protect.  

Otabek's camera quality decreased. Yuri could still see his confused expression, he looked down at the keyboard.  

"Yura, can I say something?"  

"I've never stopped you before."  

Otabek had to agree, " I think you're trying to hide the fact that you're hurting, and your anger is a way with coping with this. I think you should call Yuuri and tell him how you feel."  

Yuri was at a loss for words. Fuck Otabek. Why did he always know what to say instead of letting him be angry for a little while longer. He allowed Otabek's words to sink in for a little while longer. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he was right. Viktor has been with him since the very beginning, and once Yuuri came into both their lives it hasn't been the same ever since. The three of them did everything together. Like a family, is what Viktor would always say to them.  

His eyes widen. The only other person he considered family was his grandfather. The man who supported him through it all. When he passed, that was the worst day of his life. It rained that day, he remembers. Otabek was there by his side refusing to leave. They stood in the rain, watching as the casket was lowered. It felt as if his life was ending right then and there. Then, that's when Yuri felt an arm wrap around his shoulders. When he looked up, it was Viktor and Katsudon. Not saying anything, just offering their sad smiles.  

"Yura..."  

"S-Shut up." His body was trembling again. Except, it wasn't the same feeling he had when he went to Viktor's. It was a feeling of sadness.  

The younger boy laughed. This freaked Otabek out. He called his name, attempting to get his attention.  

"I'm going to call that pig. He's going to wish he never met me."  

Otabek sighed. This was the Yuri he knew and loved. The one who always jumped into a situation without a plan and without thinking of the outcomes.  

"Please don't do anything you'll regret."  

"Oh, don't worry. I won't regret this."  

...

 

In Japan, Yuuri was found in his old room at his family inn. The lights were off and the curtains drawn. He laid on bed, with his back towards the door.  

Every so often he would hear soft knocks on his door. It was always his mother, telling him that she left a tray of food outside for if he got hungry. Placing the fresh tray down and picking up the old one that was untouched. Other times, it would be his father. Wondering if he wanted to join him in a walk in the town. Yuuri would always decline. Then, it was his sister. She never took no for an answer. Often dragging him out of the bed so that he could get some fresh air and eat something. She would smoke a cigarette when they sat outside, Yuuri would just stare off into the distance.  

When the news broke to his family they were devastated. It seemed that they were more disappointed that their marriage didn't work more than they were angry at Viktor. Yuuri could see that his mom was upset. She loved Viktor, often treating him like a son. Everyone loved Viktor. He just had that effect on everyone. Yuuri just wished that that affect only worked on him. Then maybe they would be okay.  

His phone has been off for a few days now. Since returning home he's been receiving nothing but texts from his Russian rink mates, Pitchit, a couple of other skaters, and of course Viktor. He couldn't take it anymore. Which is why he turned his phone off and buried it in his unpacked suitcase.  

Though, he couldn't help but think about Yuri. He probably hated him more than he already did, he deserved an explanation. It wasn't fair, he didn't have time to talk to him, he just wanted to get out of Russian as soon as possible.  

Yuuri turned on his back, wiping his eyes. His cheeks felt dry from all the tears he didn't have the energy to wipe away. He blinked, then his eyes fell on the light spot on his wall. That's where he had his favorite poster of Viktor. It was the one of him in his junior years. With his long silver hair and the outfit that Yuuri wore for his Eros program years ago. Yuuri thought that taking down the posters would help, but the naked spots on the walls only left reminders.  

_Knock. Knock._  

Yuuri covered his eyes, pretending to be asleep. It was probably his mother again. She would understand if he didn't answer. Except, Yuuri heard his door slide open.  

"I know you're not asleep." It was Mari. She stood in the middle of his room, one arm crossed over her chest, the other hand occupied with a cellphone. Someone was on the other line.  

"It's for you." She said.  

Yuuri took the pillow to cover his face. Something he used to do when they were kids, "Tell whoever it is that I'm busy."  

Mari appeared unamused, yanking the pillow away and shoving the phone against his ear.  

"Just take it. It's someone important." She walked out the room, sliding the door shut behind her.  

Someone important? Who could be more important than...  

Yuuri sat up, "Hello?"  

"You fucking pig. I swear I'm going to kick both your asses."  

...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that this chapter is a bit short considering the long wait. I appreciate all the comments and the awesome feedback. I never imagined that this fic would be perceived so well and I am so grateful thank you. Next chapter will definitely focus more on Yuuri and Viktor. As i stated i really wanted to explore Yuri's emotions. Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think. Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated!


	4. Maybe...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You cleaned?" He looked around the place. It practically sparkled.
> 
> Neither Yuri or Otabek could bring themselves to say anything. Both quietly watching Viktor move around the living room.
> 
> Makkachin reappeared, dragging someone with him by his pants leg, "Makka, where did you-"
> 
> Viktor froze stiff, his blood turning ice cold, color draining from his face. Heartbeats thumped loudly in the room, and blood filled his ears.
> 
> Yuuri wiped his hands on an off-white towelette, "H-Hi." He greeted the man who he hasn't seen in months.
> 
> "Hi..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so patient with me! I know my updates aren't consistent because this is my first year of college and I'm trying to stay on top of everything. But I can promise you that I try my best with posting, and I've been dwelling on this chapter for a couple of days because I wanted it to be right. 
> 
> I said this last time about chapter 3, but I think this is my new favorite chapter because I enjoy exploring character emotion. 
> 
> Enjoy!

...

 

"Yuri? I... I wasn't expecting you to call." Yuuri stammered over his words.

"Just shut your pig mouth and listen to me. Viktor is a fucking mess. He's a big pathetic pile of shit..."

Yuuri listened, hand gripping the cellphone until his knuckles turned white and went cold. He had already felt guilty for leaving Yuri so abruptly without saying as much as a goodbye.

"Just come back to St. Petersburg. You're the only one who can fix this, I don't have time to babysit his ass."

That's when Yuuri had to stop him, a sad smile spreading across his face. His once lively brown eyes, reduced to a dull color that stared at the bare spot on his wall. Yuri always acted mature for his age but he was still young. Young and unaware of how it feels to have the foundation the trust he's built with the man he loves crumble before his very eyes.

"Yuri." He spoke softly as if speaking to a small child. He knew that Yuri was hurting, he was too. But he can't. He couldn't bring himself to go back to Russia and deal with the constant reminders.

"I can't come back."

On the other side of the line, there was no sound other than the faint noise of Yuri's breathing. There was movement, much it. Then Yuri spoke again.

"Why not?"

Why not? He asks. Yuuri chuckled, his eyes burning with the tears he tried so hard to hold back. He knew that facing Viktor again would be hard, but somehow talking to Yuri was even harder. Yuri was like a younger brother he's known since he was 15. He watched him grow into a young adult, and it pained him more than anything that he couldn't tell him that he was not only afraid to confront Viktor but him as well.

Yuri wouldn't understand. Just like how he thinks it's easy for Yuuri to just go back and make everything all better. It wasn't like putting a band-aid on a sidewalk scrape. There were steps, steps he isn't ready to make.

"I'm sorry." He removed the phone from his ear, about to press the end call button when...

"You're no better than him. You and Viktor belong together because you two are too afraid to face reality." Yuri's voice was cold yet truthful.

"W-What?"

"Life isn't perfect you selfish assholes. You two only ever think of yourselves. You don't care about other people. You just care about yourself."

"T-That's not true."

Yuri laughed sounded menacing and unfriendly, "Then prove it."

He hung up. Leaving the dial tone to resonate in Yuuri's ear as a bitter reminder.

Yuuri laid the phone on his pillow, drawing his knees up to his chin. He felt a rattling in his chest as he tried to take a deep calming breath, his thoughts getting the best of him. Maybe this is why Viktor felt compelled to drink, maybe he drove him away with the crippling anxiety he constantly felt.

Then there was Yuri. He never thought of him throughout his marriage quarrel and eventual divorce; After Yuri lost his grandfather he's never been the same. Often hiding how he truly feels behind a facade that only faded when he was around Otabek or Yuuri and Viktor. Maybe he was right. How could Yuuri be any better than Viktor when he's hurting people he didn't know cared.

He failed to hear the door slide open, It was Mari stepping in to check on her younger brother.

"How did it go?" She asked, flicking the wheel on her lighter.

"Yuri said I was no better than Viktor. He hates me." Yuuri resembled a child in the position he was in. Curled up to shield himself from the world that caused him harm. Like a turtle retreating into its shell.

"Poor you." She went to sit on the bed, comforting her brother by wrapping a protective arm around his shoulders. No matter how old they got, she comforted him like how she would when he was only a young boy who got upset when he slipped on his first time skating in Hasetsu Ice Castle.

Yuuri sank into her touch, his eyes downcast to his socks. "He told me to come back to St. Petersburg, I said no. Do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

"Yuuri, you're almost 30 but still ask questions that can't be answered."

He chuckled bitterly, delighted to hear the bluntness in her voice. She almost had her own way of making him feel better by telling him how it is. No sugarcoating necessary.

"I feel like I'm letting Yuri down."

"You're either letting him down or you're not. There's no in between." Mari took the cigarette from behind her ear, waiting to get permission to light it. She knows how touchy Yuuri could get when having the nicotine smell in his room. He gave a small nod.

"Sometimes you have to think about yourself and your own mental health."

"No, Mar, that's the problem. I've been thinking of myself this entire time. I may never forgive Viktor, I don't think I want to... but I do want to make things right."

Mari shrugged, standing up. She put her hands in her pockets with her newly lit cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth, "then you should consider whether or not you're going back for your own conscious or if you truly want to make things better."

Yuuri was at a lost. He stared at his sister, clutching his knees closer to his chest.

"Whatever you do I will always support and love you. It's your choice, and neither mom, dad, or I will stop you."

"Thank you."

Mari nodded, she took her cigarette in between her two fingers, a satisfied smile on her lips.

"Also, go take a shower. You smell." She left.

Yuuri took a whiff of his body odor and nearly gagged. He never neglected his own hygiene.

He silently thanked his sister.

Laying back on his bed, he glanced over at his phone he long discarded. Mari was right too. But two people couldn't be right, surely there was only one answer? Whether or not he indulged Yuri or listened to Mari his choice was the only one that mattered... right?

He rubbed his eyes with his palms. Stopped, then rubbed his eyes again. This time with more force.

What should he do? If only he had the right answer to that question.

-

 

In the ballet studio, the room was filled with young kids who were bursting with energy. Kids who giggled and laughed, their young faces filling the room with their joy.

"Alright all of you, stop fooling around!" Yelled a commanding voice. Minako stood in the front of the room with perfect posture, her hands elegantly placed on her hips, with a stern face.

The kids quickly settled, bowing their hands a bit in fear. They didn't want to make Minkao-Sensi upset because then she'll make them do more morning stretches instead of doing the fun stuff like learning new dance moves.

"I want you all to do what we practiced, okay? One, two, three..." she raised her hands, coaching the kids through the movements. Sometimes she was hard on them but it was only because she wanted them to succeed. Deep down she had a soft spot for all her students.

Minako was so busy with her class she didn't notice that a certain someone came by to visit. Yuuri stood back by the door, he wrapped his robe tight around him, body leaning on the frame. He wanted to pay a visit to his old instructor.

"Minako-Sensi, there's a man by the door." One of the girls pointed out. Minako quickly whipped her head around, her mouth nearly dropping to the floor.

"Yuuri! It's so good to see you!" She went up to scoop him in a big bone-crushing hug, knocking the wind out of him in the process, "how are you feeling?" A whisper in his ear. Yuuri breathed into her touch. Nearly everyone in Hasetsu knew about the divorce. Some locals even came by the Inn when Yuri returned to deliver gift baskets or desserts as if a loved one just died.

"I could be better." He admitted, pulling away to get a look at her face. She was older now, but still retained her youthful appearance. They all looked older. Four years could really make or break a person.

Minako nodded, then in a few swift motions she gave him a light punch in the arm, "that's for not visiting me!" Eyebrows narrowed into an unpleasant expression.

Yuuri rubbed the spot on his arm that just dealt with contact, "I'm sorry, it's just-"

"Please. You don't have to explain. Why don't you meet with me after I finish with my class? We can go out for drinks."

His nose wrinkled up. Alcohol had affected his life enough, the next thing he needed was to be around anymore. Minako noticed the tension. She offered an alternative.

"Or we can get something to eat. It looks like you can use a meal." She tried to lighten up the air by making a joke. Yuuri agreed, still rubbing his arm.

"Yeah, that would be nice."

"Good. I'll see you after-" a loud thud got their attention, Minako turned to see it was one of her students who fell. She had to get back to the class before they all injured themselves, "Yuuri, I gotta get back to the kids. I'll see you in a little bit, okay?" She quickly dismissed herself, scolding her students for roughhousing.

Yuuri stepped outside, not wanting to cause further damage.

He'll just wait and enjoy the beautiful weather.

 

An hour has passed since Minako told Yuuri to wait for her. The class must have gone a little overtime with the punishment they all received for behaving poorly.

Yuuri didn't mind. It's been a while since he's been outside, feeling the wind on his cheeks. He's always felt that the air in Hasetsu and the air in St. Petersburg were different. It was probably because there were more people in St. Petersburg, which means more pollution. The air wasn't terrible, but thick. Not at all as crisp and clean as the air in Hasetsu. Then again, he might be biased because this is his hometown.

He took his phone out of his pocket. Ever since his conversation with Yuri he had the urge to call him back to apologize. His phone was still off knowing that if he turned it on it would probably just be a dozen old messages from Viktor, possibly a few voicemails. Yuuri couldn't bear to listen to his voice, nonetheless read his words because in Yuuri's head he would only hear Viktor.

A voice that used to be laced with honey and lavender now cut deeper than any knife.

"You ready to go?" Minkao appeared behind him, keys dangling in her hands. The studio was all locked up and secure.

The older women changed out of her dance attire, now sporting a long coat, heels, and a cream-colored scarf around her neck. Her outfit was enough to put Yuuri's to shame without even trying. He just had on his robe, sweats, and sneakers.

The chocolate brown hair in her tight bun now flowed freely down her back. She looked casual. Casual and happy. Her clicking steps stopped behind Yuuri as she begged the question again, "are you ready, Yuuri?"

Yuuri nodded. Standing up.

"Good. My car is in the front. Let's go." And Yuuri followed. Once getting to the small red car he sat in the front seat.

The engine purred to life like a sleeping cat waking up from a nap. Minako pulled out of the spot, driving in a comfortable silence as she usually did, with the radio on low.

 

They've been driving for a while now, Yuuri watching from the window as they passed by cafe's, department stores, and small restaurants. Minako said that they were going out to eat, but they've passed several eateries without stopping at one.

This made Yuuri wonder what she had planned for them, and whether or not he would like this plan.

"Minako, where are we going?" The car slowed, pulling into a spot.

She didn't respond to her question, rather she got out of the car, expecting Yuuri to follow. He did. He followed with hesitant footsteps.

Just as Yuuri was closing the door, he glanced up and saw a full few of Hasetsu Castle. Why would Minako take him to this tourist attraction?

"I haven't been here in years," Yuuri noted, following the women up the steps. Hasetsu castle was beautiful, as well as peaceful. Yuuri remembered countless times when he found himself at the old castle to clear his head when his anxiety got the best of him, or when he just needed a quiet place to think.

They took a seat on one of the benches. Neither Yuuri or Minako saying a word. This pace brought back memories, memories that he's suppressed in the back of his mind after making newer ones.

"I brought you here because I wanted to talk to you." She removed the scarf from around her neck, setting it in her lap.

"O-Okay..." he was never one for sudden confrontation.

"We're all worried about you, Yuuri."

Of course, the conversation would be about no other than...

"I know you're going through a tough time. I know that you're hurting, but where's that bright-faced man who came to me for advice on how to be eros, what happened to him?" She reached over to put her hand underneath his chin, drawing his attention to her face. Her eyes were saddened with sympathy, also love.

Yuuri turned, hands moving over to the gold ring he still wore on his finger. Then, he twisted it until he felt the skin surrounding it burn. He kept doing this.

"As an outsider looking in, I only want the best for you."

"Is that why you brought me here?"

Minako didn't say anything.

"When Viktor came here for the first time this was the first place I took him. I was a nervous wreck." The gold ring twisted around his finger, the sun catching it and causing the piece of jewelry to shine.

"I don't know what to do... I want to hate him but I miss him."

She just lent her listening ear. Reaching to grab his hand, giving it a slight squeeze.

"Yuri called me. He told me that Viktor is a mess... But I shouldn't feel bad for something I didn't ruin, right?"

"No."

"He asked me to fly out to St. Petersburg and I said no." Yuuri gripped his hair. His eyes were shut, attempting to rid of all the conflicting thoughts he couldn't decipher. All this time he had to himself and he still couldn't think of an answer.

He released his grip, realizing that he never had to think of complicated answers because Viktor was always there to say the right thing. Like Viktor was the seal for Yuuri's leaking boat on a rough current. Now that he was gone, the leak was back, slowly bringing Yuuri down to the bottom of the ocean.

"Yuuri, relationships are hard and marriage is harder. You're around the person all the time and there will be times when you just want to rip their heads off. Ask Yuuko and Takeshi." Minkao had to chuckle at the thought of their endless bantering.

"I know." Yuuri sighed, bringing his knees up to his chest.

"I think I'm going to go back. Even though we may never get back together I want to talk to him."

"Are you sure? You have to make sure that you're ready."

"An old friend told me that I should stop thinking about myself for a change, and I want to follow that advice."

Minako pulled him into another one of her bone-crushing hugs, her chin resting on the top of his head as she ran a hand through his hair. Yuuri, on the other hand, couldn't stop himself from blushing at the thought of his head being so close to her breast.

The hug was much needed, and he very much appreciated it.

"Thank you." He whispered.

He finally knows what he is going to do.

-

 

When Yuuri arrives home he turns on his phone, taking a seat on the bed. Even after all this time he's still unsure about this.

Immediately when the phone comes to life, he unlocks it before having a chance to read the messages. He did catch a glimpse of some of the names. Most were from Pitchit, others from Yuri, some from Milia, Georgi, Otabek, and finally Viktor. He didn't dare read any of them. He was going to have to give Pitchit a call when he arrives in St. Petersburg, feeling terrible for neglecting his best friend.

His finger scrolled down his contact list until he reached the name he was looking for. The phone rang twice before it was answered.

"What do you want." Yuri's voice felt like fresh venom coming from a snake. Yuuri flinched at his tone. He had to be strong.

"Yuri, there's so many things I want to say. I hope I'll be able to say them when I see you face to face."

Yuri hesitated, "what the fuck are you talking about?" He kept up his walls.

"I'm coming back tomorrow."

"You're fucking joking."

Yuuri shook his head even though the young man could not see, "No."

Yuuri could hear the smile on Yuri's face, "well, I hope you're ready for me to punch you in the face. I'll pick you up. Your pig legs better move fast or I'm leaving your ass."

"Okay, Okay. I'll see you when I touch down."

"Yeah, whatever. Bye."

He didn't hang up. Both holding onto the call in silence. It felt like a weight was lifted from Yuuri's chest. Yuri may not have forgiven him yet, but these were the steps towards gaining his forgiveness. He could tell by the way he spoke to him.

"Oi, Katsudon." Yuri's voice sounded much softer without the edge. He sounded how he would speak when it was only the two of them around, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. This is something I should have done a while ago."

"Way to ruin me being nice. Hurry up before I fly to Japan and drag you back to Russian myself." This time he hung up for real.

That was one person down. Yuuri felt good for the first time in a long time. Next, he sent a quick text to Pitchit, to let him know that he was still alive.

_Yuuri: Hey, Pitchit. I'll talk to you tomorrow. I'm sorry for not saying anything. But I'm doing better. Xoxo._

And last, he took the golden ring off his finger. Getting up to place it safely on his desk.

-

 

Two suitcases were stacked by the front door, Yuuri coming down with his third bag as his family watched him go.

Mari was right about one thing. They didn't try to stop him, rather they wished him luck. The anger they had towards Viktor betraying their trust had long subsided and they long awaited for Yuuri's next move. Whether he moved on or made things work with the Russian retiree, they would love and support him.

Yuri's mother came in for one last hug.

"Make sure you give everyone our love."

He hugged her back, "thanks, mom, but I don't think love is what everyone needs."

"Nonsense. Everyone needs love even during the toughest time." She gave him a kiss on the cheeks, letting go and admiring her son before she was going to have to say goodbye.

Yuuri didn't look like himself. He was a little too skinny and pale from being cooped up in his room. His eyes were even sunken in from the lack of sleep, and that bright smile he had hasn't seen the light of day. But regardless, she was going to send him off with her best wishes. Along with her husband and daughter.

His father gave him a hearty pat on the back. He was going to miss his son not being around. It was always like this when Yuuri lived in Russia and he would visit and leave. The feeling was bittersweet.

"You sure you don't need help, little bro?" Mari asked.

Yuuri held his hand up, "no, I got this. It's only a couple of bags."

He gave Mari a hug. It lasted the longest and was one he really needed. As much as he loved being around his friends and family, he was going to have to head back eventually and face the music. He couldn't keep running away from his problems if he wanted things to change. Something that he had to learn over the past few days.

Yuuri quickly bid his final goodbyes, not wanting to keep the taxi waiting any longer. He rolled the bags out one after the other until they were all in the trunk. Yuuri shut the trunk, keeping his hands on the top and taking a look around at his family Inn than at the scenery he was going to miss. Hasetsu was his safe haven, with the crisp air and friendly faces. He was going to miss it all.

He got in the back seat of the car, closing the door and waving his family goodbye. The entire time he tried to ignore the knot tying itself in his stomach, causing his stomach to tingle with nerves. Russia wasn't a bad place, but it screamed Viktor. There wasn't a place Yuuri could go without seeing Viktor's face plastered all over sports magazines, even though he retired four years ago. Viktor was the equivalent of Russia's _"American sweetheart"._

Not to mention that there was a chance that Yuuri could run into the press. Luckily they didn't dare come to a place like Hasetsu, but St. Petersburg was another story. All around the world, they wanted to know the truth about their marriage.

He gulped, hand consciously traveling to his finger where his ring used to be.   
  
All he had to do was stay strong.

-

 

Almost a nine-hour flight later and Yuuri touched down in St. Petersburg with daylight to spare. Still, on the plane, he opened his phone to turn off airplane mode. It was a good thing he paid extra for out of country service, fill bars instantly popped up, along with dozens of notifications.

Yuuri set a quick text to Yuri to let him know he touched down even though he told him an approximate time he would be arriving.

To say the least, it felt strange being back in St. Petersburg. He knew why for obvious reasons, but it was other things too. Like how as soon as they touched, the pilot said welcome in Russian. It was official that he was back. Being around his culture for a period time might have put him into some sort of culture shock. Yuuri was no longer in Japan.

"Alright, we are about to unload. Please move out in an orderly fashion, and we thank you for picking..."

Yuuri blocked out the rest of the flight attendants announcement, standing up to retrieve his carry on bag. After that, he doesn't remember getting off the plane and going to baggage claim. His body was functioning but it was like his brain was completely disconnected, almost like an out-of-body experience and he could see everyone around him without really seeing them.

It could have been his body telling him to go back home, and his brain telling him to keep going. All Yuuri knew was that his entire body was coordinated, and he felt sick with nerves.

"Katsudon! Over here." His eyes went up and he saw a man with long blonde hair, and text to him a man who stood a few inches shorter with dark hair pulled back into a neat bun.

Yuri and Otabek. His feet guided him over to the two, relieved to see familiar faces.

"You're lucky Beka was here or I would have left your slow ass." Was Yuri's way of saying hello.

Yuri didn't question why Otabek was in Russia. The last thing he's heard was that he was going on tour in North America for a few months. No matter, it felt good to have someone he's gotten close with over the years with Yuri as well.

"It's good to see you too, Yuri. As to you Otabek." Otabek nodded and took some of his bags, Yuri just kept his arms crossed against his chest.

Another thing that felt strange was how aware Yuuri was of his own voice. His time in Japan had definitely thickened his accent, but now with all the different languages ringing in his ears, it made him feel more self-conscious. Currently, he was not off to a good start.

"Let's hurry and leave. I can feel prying eyes on us." Yuri was referring to the "discreet" reporters around them with their cameras hidden. He didn't want a huge public spectacle about this, not when he hadn't told Viktor that Yuuri was returning.

"Okay." Yuuri agreed. He followed the two out of the airport.

 

The car ride was quiet but not awkward. Yuuri sat in the back, looking out at the neighborhood of St. Petersburg, while Yuri and Otabek sat in the front. The both of them discussing something in Russian over the radio.

_"Did you tell him how bad Viktor got?"_ Asked Otabek.

_"To a degree,"_ Yuri replied, his eyes focused on the road as he drove, _"He's going to have to see it for himself."_

Yuuri pretended not to listen. He knew enough Russian to fully translate what they were saying. How bad was Viktor? Yuuri half expected to walk into some sort of biohazard when they reached his old apartment.

He didn't even have enough energy to make light conversation with the people he hadn't seen in months. His head was spinning and he was to take a long nap.

"We're almost there," Yuri announced, peaking up at the rearview mirror, "I hope you prepared your _get your shit together_ speech."

Yuuri laughed. They were getting closer by the minute. They drove out of the more urban area and was now driving along the beach line where his old apartment was. He missed the beach. The water was still as crystal clear as he remembers, with the sand that had a pinkish tint to it. And just a little over to the left was their apartment Yuri was turning into.

The curtains were drawn shut, and the plants that Yuuri insisted on planted were long dried up. By the looks of things, it appeared that no one was home. Another big relief because now he could properly brace himself.

"Looks like the old fart went out. About time he gets his lazy ass up." Yuri turned the car off.

"Be nice, Yura." They all got out. Otabek going to get the bags from the back.

Yuuri stood by the car, his legs feeling like jelly. Well, this is it. He hadn't imagined seeing his old apartment so soon. He's more nervous to step into and be around the constant reminders then he is seeing Viktor. Seeing Viktor in the present is much different from seeing happy memories from the past.

"Katsudon, are you going to stay out there all day or are you coming in?" Yuri was already halfway up the steps, retrieving the extra key from underneath the welcome mat.

The young Russian unlocked the door, Otabek trailing behind him with Yuuri's bags.

Yuuri took a deep breath, forcing his legs to lead him up the stairs without tripping. Everywhere he looked he would have flashes of happy memories he and Viktor had.

One, in particular, was when he and Viktor first moved in together. Viktor was so excited, he nearly sprained his ankle trying to carry up all the boxes without help and seconds away from tripping. Yakov would have killed them both if Viktor's big returned was ruined by as something as a sprained ankle for being a little too eager. It took them all day, with the help of Yuri who was tricked into doing so under the impression that they were going to take him out for lunch.

They never did go out for lunch, but take out was just as good. Yuuri cuddled himself against Viktor on the couch and they watched a movie on television. Yuri was the first to fall asleep due to exhaustion, leaving Viktor and Yuuri to themselves.

_"How does it feel to be in St. Petersburg, my love?" Viktor gave his fiancé a peck on the cheek._

_"Viktor..." Yuuri turned red, "I've been here loads of times." He pointed out, his fork playing around with the food in his take outbox._

_"I know, but now you're here to stay." Yuuri froze, fighting back the urge to cover his face with his hands._

_"Oi! Will you old fucks shut up? I'm trying to sleep!"_

_"Tsk, Tsk, Yurio. What did I tell you about using that language?" Viktor teased, earning a pillow straight at his face, courtesy of Yuri._

_"I'll tell you about language old man."_

Yuuri had to spend his first night as a residence in St. Petersburg cleaning up pillow feathers and take out.

Things were obviously much different now. The apartment no longer filled with the sweet smell of lavender but replaced with a stale stench of alcohol. Yuuri nearly tripped over a bottle, hearing it roll away and stopping at the wall with a faint clink.

Yuuri then stepped on broken glass shards His shoes crushing them loudly. Yuri and Otabek stood back and watched, their heads cast low as they already knew the abysmal state the apartment was in.

"W-What happened here?" Yuuri flicked on the light, knowing the apartment as well as the back of his hand. He knew where every light switch was, and which ones worked and which did not.

"Ask your ex. I told you he was a pathetic pile of shit." Otabek elbowed Yuri in the rib.

Yuri was right. Viktor would never behave like such a slob, which meant that something was seriously wrong. And there was no way Yuuri could sleep in such an environment.

"Help me clean up." Yuri and Otabek didn't argue. They took off their jackets and went to get three brooms.

Yuuri hung his jacket on the stand, rolling up his sleeves. Before he does anything he wanted to clean up the house before Viktor arrived.

 

An hour and soap soaked hands later, the house looked as clean as the day Yuuri left. The Japanese man wiped the accumulating sweat from his forehead, excusing himself to retrieve a drink from the kitchen while Otabek and Yuri finished dusting the front of the house.

The front doorknob wobbled, keys echoing throughout the house. Yuri and Otabek stopped, looked at each other, and then at the Kitchen where Yuuri was.

Makkachin ran in, running circles around both men's feet.

"Stop it you dirty mutt," Yuri lightly kicked the floor, signaling for the dog to move. Makkachin didn't mind, he liked Otabek more anyways. But the old dog wasn't dumb, he knew that someone else was in the house and he went running to the kitchen.

"Yuri? I saw your car out front." Viktor peaked in. Thankfully he was sober and a little more bearable to be around. It was a greater improvement from the last time Yuri came over and saw him lying on the couch with an empty bottle of vodka on the floor. He still looked like shit though.

"You cleaned?" He looked around the place. It practically sparkled.

Neither Yuri or Otabek could bring themselves to say anything. Both quietly watching Viktor move around the living room.

Makkachin reappeared, dragging someone with him by his pants leg, "Makka, where did you-"

Viktor froze stiff, his blood turning ice cold, color draining from his face. Heartbeats thumped loudly in the room, and blood filled his ears.

Yuuri wiped his hands on an off-white towelette, "H-Hi." He greeted the man who he hasn't seen in months.

"Hi..."

 

...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm happy that this chapter came out much longer than the last chapter because you guys deserve long chapters after waiting :) Let me know what you think! I love hearing feedback from you guys! 
> 
> I'm going to go back and most likely update this chapter, but this is it in its raw form. Thank you so much for reading. xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading to those who stayed and read this! Please let me know what you think, because feedback is very important to me. I hope this idea isn't too angsty, but I do know where I'm going with this. Thank you again!


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